Page 105 of Finding Home

I blow enthusiastic kisses at Aloha, as tears stream down my face, while Raine screams and grips her little cheeks next to me, like one of those teenagers in old black and white footage of the Beatles. My god, Raine reminds me so much of her mommy in this moment, my heartphysically hurts. Claudia loved music, and she absolutely reveled in being the ultimate fangirl for her favorites.

The intro to the song blares from overhead speakers, and Aloha calls out, “Sing and dance with me, Prairie Springs!”

The cue arrives for the first verse, and Aloha launches into singing it expertly. And of course, every man, woman, and child in the crowd—it’s the kind of song everyone knows, whether they like it or not—joins in singing and dancing without holding back.

A group on the dance floor spontaneously starts performing the famous choreography from the music video; so, of course, our small group, even Caleb, join in dancing, too, with varying degrees of aptitude. When the song ends, Caleb takes me into his arms and kisses me, laughing against my lips. And by the time our kiss is done, Aloha has already been quickly shuttled off-stage by a cadre of bodyguards.

“Don’t worry,” Caleb says into my ear. “You’ll get to meet Aloha at our engagement party tomorrow night. I rented out a restaurant in Billings for the occasion.”

“What? Oh my god!”

“I also rented out an entire floor of a hotel, so we can all hang out together after the dinner.”

“I can’t believe you did all this. I’m blown away.”

Caleb smirks and winks. “Orgasms and romance, baby. You said you wanted both, and your wish is my command.”

“I love you so much.Thank you.” I look at the ring on my hand. “Holy shit, Caleb.”

He laughs. “You like it? Miranda helped me pick it out.”

“Iloveit. It’s perfect. Beyond generous.” Tears form in my eyes, and I wipe them. “I need to sit down. I’m seriously dizzy.”

“Come on. I feel a bit dizzy myself.” He leads me to a bench on the fringes of the buzzing festival, and we sit for a moment to catch our mutual breath. As we talk, kiss, and giggle happily, the auction starts in the near distance, led by our town’s legendary auctioneer, my dad’s good friend, Bob Warner.

“So, listen, baby,” Caleb says midway through the auction. “I don’t know what the future holds for my band, in terms of tours and commitments, but I don’t think we’ll ever hang it up completely and stop performing.”

“Of course, you won’t. I’d never expect or want you to stop.” I touch his arm. “You’re only thirty-five, babe. Hopefully, your band will perform for another fifty years.”

Caleb chuckles. “Fifty? I’ll take twenty or thirty.” He gathers his thoughts. “I just want you to understand that I love you and Raine more than I love my band. More than I love making music. More than I love performing. I love all that stuff. So much. It makes meme. But you’re both mywhynow, my reason for being—my reason for staying sober—to keep growing and becoming a better man. I want you to know I’m never going to do anything to fuck up my relationship with you or our family. Please, believe that, Aubrey.”

I touch his cheek. “Baby, I know that. Doing what you love will never, ever fuck anything up.”

He bites his lip. “Do you think you and Raine might join me on the road sometimes? We could make future tours and performances a family affair.”

“Sounds fun. But don’t worry, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

He sighs with relief. “Lots of musicians I know, some in really popular bands, have families now, and they’re making it work. I’ve asked a bunch of them how they do it, and I think I understand how to balance it all. Mostly,everyone told me to make tours short and always take the fam with me, whenever possible, or create plenty of breaks in the schedule, so you can fly back and forth between home and shows.”

“Whatever it takes, we’ll do it.”

“You’re willing to work with me?”

“Caleb, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth.”

He kisses the top of my hand. “I love you so fucking much, A-Bomb.”

My smile turns into a mock glare. “You know the whole town is gonna start calling me that now, thanks to you.”

He chuckles. “That’s why I did it. If I’m C-Bomb, then you’ve gotta be my A-Bomb.”

As I laugh with him, Bob the Auctioneer bellows into his microphone, “Next up, let’s start the bidding on the amazing package donated by our very own C-Bomb! C-Bomb? Where are you, man?”

“You should go back over there.”

He squeezes my hand. “I’d rather sit here with you—my fiancée.”

Bob says, “Hmm, I don’t see C-Bomb anywhere, so let’s get into it. Let me check my notes.” He looks down at the paper in his hand. “If you have the winning bid for this one, here’s what you’ll win.” He lists a dizzying array of RCR merch, VIP tickets, and memorabilia. A Zoom call with the entire band for thirty minutes. A top-of-the-line drum kit supplied by Caleb, its toms and several sets of drumsticks signed by him. “And if you don’t know how to play,” Bob says in wrap-up. “Never fear! The winner will getthreeone-on-one drum lessons from C-Bomb himself—one of the greatest drummers in the history of music, and the greatest living drummer of our time, so you can learn to play your new drum kit like the man himself.”

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